Ok, here's my fic where Staff Head comes to pay Mark a little visit. :D Enjoy!
Mark glared at the computer screen. Of all the crazy things, he was being threatened by a toad. Of course it was a toad on a stick that could fire really powerful bursts of energy, and was affiliated with Lord Fear. That kind of made it a little more worrying.
Staff Head had been annoying him a lot lately, but most of it had seemed empty threats. The ‘totemofterror’ hadn’t actually done anything yet. But now it was ‘I’ll see you in awhile.’ That implied he’d probably be coming around pretty soon.
“Stupid staff!” Mark growled, smashing his fist into the keyboard. He couldn’t actually be bothered to type back his reply.
“Mark? What are you doing in there?” he heard Simon call from out in the hallway. The question was followed by sound of him crashing into a wall. “Ow!”
“Dad?” Mark quickly went to the door, slightly worried.
Simon was half leaning with his back on the wall, trying to balance on a pair of crutches. One of which seemed intent on going anywhere but on the ground.
Mark grabbed the piece of wood as it waved around and stuck the end back into the carpet, before helping his dad back upright.
“Thanks, son.”
“No problem. Ah… where were you going?”
“It’s about lunch time. I thought I’d go find something to eat.”
“Dad, you’re supposed to let me do that. You’ll go and fall down the stairs again!”
“I can get down the stairs just fine, thank you very much,” grumbled Simon.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Look, you could’ve just asked me. I’ll go get you a sandwich or something.”
“You seemed rather busy on the computer. What exactly were you doing on there? I could hear you from the bedroom.”
“Ah… nothing important,” Mark said quickly.
Simon didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“I’ll go get you that sandwich then!” said Mark and took off down the stairs.
It took Mark awhile to find everything in the kitchen. He couldn’t quite concentrate on what he was doing and kept forgetting where everything was, and whether he’d already gotten something out. He was worried. Or maybe I’m scared? What if Staff Head did show up? Perhaps he should call Ace or Sparx. But then Staff had been making a lot of threats lately. None of which he had carried out. Mark slammed his knife into the tomato on the chopping board, probably coming a bit close to his hand for comfort. He couldn’t believe that talking stick had tried threatening his dad. He’s probably just doing it for kicks, Mark thought, as he extracted the knife from where it’d stuck in the wooden chopping board. Just to see me get angry. And it was working too. Really, he had nothing to worry about.
That was when he heard something fall onto the stairs.
Mark froze. “Dad?”
There was no reply, but Mark was sure he heard something that sounded serpentine move across the carpet.
Mark looked at the knife in his hand, before realising that he’d never actually want to get close enough to use it, not to mention he didn’t even know how well it would work.
“Guess again…” came a voice, confirming Mark’s worst fears.
Staff Head. He had to have come in through the hole in the roof. Stupid hole. Mark stepped around the kitchen counter, carefully searching the floor. His school bag was on the dining room table, surrounded by a mountain of school books and work that he’d been working on, or at least attempting to work on, last night. His wrist cannon was in his bag somewhere. He just had to get it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, trying to move quietly up to the table. Maybe he could keep Staff talking while he got his wrist cannon.
“Oh, I told you. I’ve just come to pay a little visit. See how you and your dear old dad are doing…”
Mark felt anger flash through him, and tried to stay calm. “Leave him out of this.” There was still an edge to his voice.
Staff Head didn’t answer, which worried Mark even more. Nearly at his bag… One of the chairs across the table shifted slightly.
Mark stopped. Nothing else moved. He tried to grab his bag, but felt something around his ankle first.
“Hello, mate!” said Staff, before pulling Mark’s leg out from under him.
Mark fell to the floor, his bag still on the table, out of reach.
Staff Head was still on his ankle and crawled up him so he was right in his face, pinning him down with coils of his stick-like body. “How are we today then, mortal? Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Get off me,” Mark growled, but his voice was shaking.
“Come on, that’s not a very nice way to talk to a guest, now is it?” Staff grinned, and Mark felt him tighten a few coils around his legs, getting a better grip. “Why don’t I just go see if your dad is a bit more hospitable?”
Mark felt the anger flash through him again, and this time he didn’t bother to try and control it. “Yeah that’s real funny! I’ve told you not to touch him! Just because he’s fallen through some stupid hole doesn’t mean you can pick on him!”
“Doesn’t it? No one’s told me that,” said Staff Head, still grinning. Another coil slipped under Mark’s body. “And who’s going to stop me then, hmm? Certainly not you after I’ve crushed the life out of you…”
Mark swallowed hard. That was a real threat.
“…then your dad…”
Mark clenched his fists, anger burning again. His left hand gripped on something. He was still holding the knife.
Staff cut his threat off with a yelp, suddenly feeling something sticking into his wooden body. “Aw, crikey!” he complained, looking down and seeing the knife stuck in him. “Now that is just plain rude…” he grumbled. He flicked his body around a bit until the knife worked loose and clattered to the floor.
The movement cost him his grip on Mark, who slipped out from under him, grabbed his bag and moved to the other side of the table.
Staff Head drew himself up to his full height and sent a blast across.
Mark ducked, then decided it was better to stay on the floor as he got out his wrist cannon and slipped it on.
“Mark, what are you doing down there?” came Simon’s voice from upstairs.
“Ah… sorry, Dad! I just dropped some dishes.” Yeah, weapons fire really sounds like dropping dishes. “Just stay upstairs I’ll tidy it up.”
Mark jumped up from behind the table, firing a shot of electricity at Staff Head. Staff twisted his body to avoid it then fired at Mark. Mark ducked again, before standing up for another shot. But Staff had beat him to it, another glowing green blast of energy was just emerging from the crystal ball on the toad’s head. Mark didn’t have time to duck again. He held his hands in front of his face, trying to shield himself.
“Got ya, mortal,” said Staff as the green energy knocked Mark over and up against a wall.
Mark shook his head. Somehow he thought getting shot would hurt more. Well, his right arm did ache like crazy. He lifted up his arm and looked at it. His wrist canon had a dark blast mark in its side, and the metal was slightly bent out of shape.
“Game over, mortal,” he heard Staff Head snicker. The totem was slithering around the edge of the table. He didn’t seem worried about getting shot, probably thought he’d taken Mark out.
Mark lifted the cannon and blasted Staff Head. The look on his face would’ve been priceless if Mark hadn’t been so angry.
“Ow! Crikey!” Staff Head exclaimed as he was knocked across the room, the blast hitting him in the toad-like part of his body. The part not designed to take all those blasts for Lord Fear.
Mark got up with an effort and walked over to where Staff had landed. He pointed his wrist cannon at the toad. “Get out of my house!”
“Um… no need to get so angry, mortal. I was just having some fun.”
“Yeah, it was real fun. I really enjoyed having you blast holes all over my house, not to mention at me. Now get out!”
“Alright, alright, no need to get so grumpy.” Staff Head slithered across the floor, Mark following him with his wrist cannon. If they’d been anywhere but in his house, Mark would’ve blasted Staff again. “I’m going.”
Perhaps Staff had had enough, or Mark had actually hurt him because he slithered slowly to the back door and left without a fuss.
“Mark, what is that noise?!” he heard his dad call down. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d said it.
Mark tried to calm down a bit before he replied. “Sorry, I had the TV on, I’ll turn it off.”
“Good, now clean the kitchen. You’d better not have broken anything. Don’t make me have to come down there!”
Mark’s eyes widened. Okay, his dad was not very happy. Probably had something to do with him being stuck upstairs while his son trashed the kitchen. At least that must’ve been what it sounded like. “Don’t worry I’ve got it under control,” Mark replied.
“I should hope so. And can you please bring me my sandwich?”
“Sure, Dad.”
Mark realised he still had his wrist cannon pointed at the door and lowered it. Staff Head was probably not coming back. He pulled the cannon off his arm, it came off with a little more effort than usual. It was slightly warped and probably hadn’t been designed to be used as a shield. Mark threw it back in his school bag and flexed his arm. Yeah, that would probably hurt for a bit. At least Staff Head hadn’t actually hit him. Or Dad. Somehow, he’d managed to fend the toad on a stick off. He just hoped he didn’t come back. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again.
Mark went back into the kitchen, picking up the knife on the way through and throwing it in the sink. He finished up the sandwich and went to take it upstairs. Now all he had to do was face his dad.
Well?
Mark glared at the computer screen. Of all the crazy things, he was being threatened by a toad. Of course it was a toad on a stick that could fire really powerful bursts of energy, and was affiliated with Lord Fear. That kind of made it a little more worrying.
Staff Head had been annoying him a lot lately, but most of it had seemed empty threats. The ‘totemofterror’ hadn’t actually done anything yet. But now it was ‘I’ll see you in awhile.’ That implied he’d probably be coming around pretty soon.
“Stupid staff!” Mark growled, smashing his fist into the keyboard. He couldn’t actually be bothered to type back his reply.
“Mark? What are you doing in there?” he heard Simon call from out in the hallway. The question was followed by sound of him crashing into a wall. “Ow!”
“Dad?” Mark quickly went to the door, slightly worried.
Simon was half leaning with his back on the wall, trying to balance on a pair of crutches. One of which seemed intent on going anywhere but on the ground.
Mark grabbed the piece of wood as it waved around and stuck the end back into the carpet, before helping his dad back upright.
“Thanks, son.”
“No problem. Ah… where were you going?”
“It’s about lunch time. I thought I’d go find something to eat.”
“Dad, you’re supposed to let me do that. You’ll go and fall down the stairs again!”
“I can get down the stairs just fine, thank you very much,” grumbled Simon.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Look, you could’ve just asked me. I’ll go get you a sandwich or something.”
“You seemed rather busy on the computer. What exactly were you doing on there? I could hear you from the bedroom.”
“Ah… nothing important,” Mark said quickly.
Simon didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“I’ll go get you that sandwich then!” said Mark and took off down the stairs.
It took Mark awhile to find everything in the kitchen. He couldn’t quite concentrate on what he was doing and kept forgetting where everything was, and whether he’d already gotten something out. He was worried. Or maybe I’m scared? What if Staff Head did show up? Perhaps he should call Ace or Sparx. But then Staff had been making a lot of threats lately. None of which he had carried out. Mark slammed his knife into the tomato on the chopping board, probably coming a bit close to his hand for comfort. He couldn’t believe that talking stick had tried threatening his dad. He’s probably just doing it for kicks, Mark thought, as he extracted the knife from where it’d stuck in the wooden chopping board. Just to see me get angry. And it was working too. Really, he had nothing to worry about.
That was when he heard something fall onto the stairs.
Mark froze. “Dad?”
There was no reply, but Mark was sure he heard something that sounded serpentine move across the carpet.
Mark looked at the knife in his hand, before realising that he’d never actually want to get close enough to use it, not to mention he didn’t even know how well it would work.
“Guess again…” came a voice, confirming Mark’s worst fears.
Staff Head. He had to have come in through the hole in the roof. Stupid hole. Mark stepped around the kitchen counter, carefully searching the floor. His school bag was on the dining room table, surrounded by a mountain of school books and work that he’d been working on, or at least attempting to work on, last night. His wrist cannon was in his bag somewhere. He just had to get it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, trying to move quietly up to the table. Maybe he could keep Staff talking while he got his wrist cannon.
“Oh, I told you. I’ve just come to pay a little visit. See how you and your dear old dad are doing…”
Mark felt anger flash through him, and tried to stay calm. “Leave him out of this.” There was still an edge to his voice.
Staff Head didn’t answer, which worried Mark even more. Nearly at his bag… One of the chairs across the table shifted slightly.
Mark stopped. Nothing else moved. He tried to grab his bag, but felt something around his ankle first.
“Hello, mate!” said Staff, before pulling Mark’s leg out from under him.
Mark fell to the floor, his bag still on the table, out of reach.
Staff Head was still on his ankle and crawled up him so he was right in his face, pinning him down with coils of his stick-like body. “How are we today then, mortal? Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Get off me,” Mark growled, but his voice was shaking.
“Come on, that’s not a very nice way to talk to a guest, now is it?” Staff grinned, and Mark felt him tighten a few coils around his legs, getting a better grip. “Why don’t I just go see if your dad is a bit more hospitable?”
Mark felt the anger flash through him again, and this time he didn’t bother to try and control it. “Yeah that’s real funny! I’ve told you not to touch him! Just because he’s fallen through some stupid hole doesn’t mean you can pick on him!”
“Doesn’t it? No one’s told me that,” said Staff Head, still grinning. Another coil slipped under Mark’s body. “And who’s going to stop me then, hmm? Certainly not you after I’ve crushed the life out of you…”
Mark swallowed hard. That was a real threat.
“…then your dad…”
Mark clenched his fists, anger burning again. His left hand gripped on something. He was still holding the knife.
Staff cut his threat off with a yelp, suddenly feeling something sticking into his wooden body. “Aw, crikey!” he complained, looking down and seeing the knife stuck in him. “Now that is just plain rude…” he grumbled. He flicked his body around a bit until the knife worked loose and clattered to the floor.
The movement cost him his grip on Mark, who slipped out from under him, grabbed his bag and moved to the other side of the table.
Staff Head drew himself up to his full height and sent a blast across.
Mark ducked, then decided it was better to stay on the floor as he got out his wrist cannon and slipped it on.
“Mark, what are you doing down there?” came Simon’s voice from upstairs.
“Ah… sorry, Dad! I just dropped some dishes.” Yeah, weapons fire really sounds like dropping dishes. “Just stay upstairs I’ll tidy it up.”
Mark jumped up from behind the table, firing a shot of electricity at Staff Head. Staff twisted his body to avoid it then fired at Mark. Mark ducked again, before standing up for another shot. But Staff had beat him to it, another glowing green blast of energy was just emerging from the crystal ball on the toad’s head. Mark didn’t have time to duck again. He held his hands in front of his face, trying to shield himself.
“Got ya, mortal,” said Staff as the green energy knocked Mark over and up against a wall.
Mark shook his head. Somehow he thought getting shot would hurt more. Well, his right arm did ache like crazy. He lifted up his arm and looked at it. His wrist canon had a dark blast mark in its side, and the metal was slightly bent out of shape.
“Game over, mortal,” he heard Staff Head snicker. The totem was slithering around the edge of the table. He didn’t seem worried about getting shot, probably thought he’d taken Mark out.
Mark lifted the cannon and blasted Staff Head. The look on his face would’ve been priceless if Mark hadn’t been so angry.
“Ow! Crikey!” Staff Head exclaimed as he was knocked across the room, the blast hitting him in the toad-like part of his body. The part not designed to take all those blasts for Lord Fear.
Mark got up with an effort and walked over to where Staff had landed. He pointed his wrist cannon at the toad. “Get out of my house!”
“Um… no need to get so angry, mortal. I was just having some fun.”
“Yeah, it was real fun. I really enjoyed having you blast holes all over my house, not to mention at me. Now get out!”
“Alright, alright, no need to get so grumpy.” Staff Head slithered across the floor, Mark following him with his wrist cannon. If they’d been anywhere but in his house, Mark would’ve blasted Staff again. “I’m going.”
Perhaps Staff had had enough, or Mark had actually hurt him because he slithered slowly to the back door and left without a fuss.
“Mark, what is that noise?!” he heard his dad call down. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d said it.
Mark tried to calm down a bit before he replied. “Sorry, I had the TV on, I’ll turn it off.”
“Good, now clean the kitchen. You’d better not have broken anything. Don’t make me have to come down there!”
Mark’s eyes widened. Okay, his dad was not very happy. Probably had something to do with him being stuck upstairs while his son trashed the kitchen. At least that must’ve been what it sounded like. “Don’t worry I’ve got it under control,” Mark replied.
“I should hope so. And can you please bring me my sandwich?”
“Sure, Dad.”
Mark realised he still had his wrist cannon pointed at the door and lowered it. Staff Head was probably not coming back. He pulled the cannon off his arm, it came off with a little more effort than usual. It was slightly warped and probably hadn’t been designed to be used as a shield. Mark threw it back in his school bag and flexed his arm. Yeah, that would probably hurt for a bit. At least Staff Head hadn’t actually hit him. Or Dad. Somehow, he’d managed to fend the toad on a stick off. He just hoped he didn’t come back. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again.
Mark went back into the kitchen, picking up the knife on the way through and throwing it in the sink. He finished up the sandwich and went to take it upstairs. Now all he had to do was face his dad.
Well?